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FFH: Chapter 9 - Rosecrest

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Colm and Liam’s appetites returned in full force by the time breakfast rolled around.

Everyone was dressed down for the “family day out”, conflicting with the gorgeous carriage that waited for us outside. Shining white with golden wheels that glittered, the coach had a family crest painted on the side. A man sat at the helm, meticulously dressed to match his part. Rather than horses, larger-than-life lions were tethered to the front. I’m not sure how it was possible, maybe it was natural here, but the coats on the pair of cats were white with matching golden brown manes. One stood still, patiently waiting to leave. The other seemed ready to get on the road, sniffing the air and pulling at his harness. I nearly had a heart attack when Colm walked towards them rather than the carriage door. My knuckles turned white from the death grip I had on Colm’s shirt as he approached the lions.

“Lookin’ good there, Angus. Who’s been a good boy, Vaughan?” Colm complimented, patting the snout of one lion and ruffling the mane of the other. They purred at his touch and even tried to lick him, but were discouraged when Colm kept himself back and out of their reach. I was thankful for the space. “No need tuh be scared, they woona hurt ye. They’re just big ol’ kittens.”

“I-it’s the ‘b-big’ part I’m worried about…”

Colm chuckled, stepping into the cab and taking a seat beside Liam. The adults took one side of the carriage while the kids sat on the other. The interior was decked out like a limo or luxury car back home. The seats were made of leather, and golden handles hung on the door to roll down the windows with shades to keep the sun out. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a mini-fridge or bar somewhere underneath the seats. With a bit of maneuvering, Colm buckled his seatbelt with me in hand the whole time.

“Wow. Sweet ride.” I complimented, leaning back against his chest.

My fingers found the fabric of Colm’s shirt and held on tight. It was supposed to be a long trip, so I was told, and wanted to be prepared for the movement of the carriage. At first, it was shaping up to be a fairly smooth ride, thanks to the paved path of the Arcadi mansion. A few minutes later, however, we started riding along the cobblestone streets. My stomach bounced with every stone the carriage rolled over.

“Is it tuh bumpy fer ye?” Colm asked, finally noticing my grip on his shirt. I nodded, afraid I’d lose my breakfast if I opened my mouth. “Doona worry, we’ll be outta the city soon.”

The open road proved to be less hectic than the city streets, but bumps were still felt along the way. Everyone else seemed fine talking amongst themselves to pass the time. The children’s envious looks at their uncle didn’t go unnoticed. Colm tried to distract me from the rough ride by leaning against a window and pointing out nearby landmarks. It worked, for the most part, and we passed through the gates of Rosecrest in no time at all. I breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage slowed down and came to a stop.

“Oh thank God!” I said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, when Colm stepped out of the coach.

The town had the same odd mix of modern and medieval architecture as Colm’s hometown. If Arcadia was a bustling metropolis, than Rosecrest was a simple rural town. True, there were plenty of shops and homes scattered about, but there was a cozy, country feel to it at the same time. Other Giants strolled along the sidewalk and streets, some taking a moment to wave or greet everyone in the carriage.

“Meet ye at the Bloomin’ Rose fer lunch, aye?” Liam asked from the window. “How does one o’clock sound?”

“Aye, we should be done by then. Have fun, e’eryone!” Colm said, signaling the coachman. They were down the street and out of sight soon enough.

“So, uh, where to now, Scruffy?” I asked, looking down the lane. There were plenty of shops and people, but nothing that caught my eye.  

“We’re already here, look.” he said, pointing to a building across the way.

We crossed the street to get a closer look. The display window was simple enough with human sized-mannequins dressed in clothes spread along the sill. Various other objects, including “toys”, were scattered among them. The name of the store was printed in bold, golden script across the glass with smaller print painted in black just below it:

LITTLE TREASURES:
Human Supplies, Specialists, and On-Site Clinic


“Rosecrest is one a’ the best places fer human sightin’s so they have some a’ the best shops fer’em.” Colm explained as he stepped through the front doors. “We coodne do this back in Arcadia. There arene ‘nuff humans there tuh warrant a set-up like this.”

The store was small, and greatly reminded me of an upscale specialty shop or hobby store. There was plenty to see and take in. A handful of Giants walked through the store, picking up items and inspecting them before continuing on their way. There were tables all over the place with signs indicating the different “supplies” neatly arranged on them. It made me sick to see a table with elegantly designed and fully furnished cages in one corner. They could have been one-room apartments if they weren’t surrounded by bars. Some of the “Homes”, or so the sign proclaimed them to be, were tall enough to have two or three levels. A rather large one, almost as high as Colm, boasted five levels with as many doors and locks. My grip tightened as we passed them. There was a fear in the back of my mind that one day Colm would change his mind and decide I was better off living in one of those…those…gilded dungeons. I turned away from the disturbing display just as friendly and chipper voice caught Colm’s attention.

“Welcome, Lord Colm! It’s a pleasure and an honor to have you visit our humble shop.” the young Giantess greeted with a small bow. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her green eyes were hidden behind a pair of spectacles. She had plain clothes on underneath her apron, the words “Little Treasures” stitched in Gold thread above a pair of pockets. “My name’s Delilah. How can I help you today?”

“G’mornin’, Delilah! Gotta question fer ye: is yer clinic open yet an’ do we need tuh make an appointment first?”

“Our specialist is on call all hours of the day, so it technically never closes. I can show you to the waiting room, the doctor should be with you shortly. Is there anything else I can help you with, M’lord?”

“We’ll be doin’ some shoppin’ tuh, but that can wait ‘til after we see the doc.”

“We can also close the store to the public if you’d prefer some privacy, M’lord.”

“No need tuh clear the store on our account, miss. Yer ‘sistance would be greatly ‘preciated though, if ye can spare it.”

Delilah led us to the waiting room, motioning for Colm to wait by the door. She opened it and peeked in, chatting with the receptionist. A coffee table with a pile of magazines sat in the middle of the area. I would’ve said it was a typical waiting room if I hadn’t spotted the human-sized chairs on the Giant table. Something told me there were matching sized magazines as well. Before I could point it out to Colm, Delilah led us into an examination room and asked him to fill out a medical history while we waited.

“Your next patient is here, dad.” she said, from somewhere in the hallway. “Exam Room Three.”

“Alright, dear. Give me a moment.” an elderly voice replied.

“…I’m not taking my clothes off.” I stated once I was sure we were alone. The human examination table sat in the middle of a Giant one, and I was grateful I couldn’t see down the side of the Giant table.

“Hmm?” Colm asked, copying information from his “human license” onto the clipboard.

“I don’t know this guy. I’m not comfortable here. I’m just telling you now: I’m not stripping down, not even for a hospital gown.”

“Ye realize he’s gonna need tuh look at yer leg at least, right?”

“And I’ll pull my pants up but everything else is staying on.”

My nerves were at their end as I sat there waiting. I didn’t do well around doctors and hospitals, but it felt so much worse here. My stomach was lead but queasy at the same time. What exactly did this so-called doctor intend to do? A lot of uneasy questions kept flying through my head. Back home I knew I’d be treated as an equal at least, not like some pet at a…a…

“Oh God…” I said aloud.

“There’s nothin’ tuh be worried ‘bout, ye’ll be fine.” Colm reassured me absentmindedly, double-checking what he wrote. He asked questions for answers he didn’t know, if I had certain shots for diseases I’d never heard of and if I was allergic to anything. It only made me feel worse.

“No, I won’t. I don’t like doctors, Scruffy. And…I just realized something…”

“What’s that, Runt?”

“This is a freaking veterinarian’s office, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a-!” Colm began, only to be interrupted when the door opened.

An older man in a doctor’s coat entered the room, his stethoscope hanging over a well-worn sweater. He had to have been in his fifties, wrinkles lining his face and what was left of his hair was a subtle shade of silver. A matching beard was short and neatly trimmed. He shook Colm’s hand as soon as he noticed him.

“Oh my! It’s an honor to have you in our little store, Lord Colm. Doctor Oliver Higgins, at your service. How can I help you today?”

“We can do with a physical an’ some vaccinations, but I’m more worried ‘bout’er leg at the moment.” Colm explained, handing the clipboard to the doctor. Higgins read it through carefully before gathering items from various cabinets in the room.

“Good morning, Ms. Arcadi. I’m Doctor Higgins.” he introduced himself again, taking a seat in front of the exam table. “Now, what seems to be the trouble with your leg?”

“Ms. what?!” I demanded, a sudden rage flowing through me at the name.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you prefer just ‘Bridget’?”

“Yes I do, but why would you call me ‘Ms. Arcadi’ in the first place?!”

“It’s what I wrote down.” Colm interjected before Higgins could answer. “It’s on the license tuh.”

Why is it on the damn license?!”

“Yer registered under me name so…well, that’s how human names are recorded here.”

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever-!” I began, ready to let my temper fly. There’s time for this later I had to remind myself. You can let him have every piece of your mind later. With a deep breath, I turned to face Higgin again. “Sorry, where were we?”

“Ah, your leg.”

I told him the story about the snake and my bite. Higgins listened carefully to every word, giving Colm the occasional glance. I wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted confirmation of my story, or if he doubted Colm’s ability as a “responsible pet owner”. Either way, he waited until I finished before asking about any symptoms.

“Alright, I’ll need to take a closer look. Could you roll your pant leg up for me, please?” he asked, putting on a ridiculous pair of goggles that magnified his gray eyes. If I wasn’t so terrified out of my mind at what kind of “examination” he was about to perform, I would have laughed. He adjusted the lenses on his goggles, gingerly inspecting the leg I was about to roll up. “One moment. This looks like…yes, these were Mended. Perhaps it’d be easier if I just did this.”

Without a word, Higgins ran a finger over the top of my jeans and undid the repair from the night before. If he saw my shock, he didn’t acknowledge it. Removing the petal-bandage, he inspected the wound on my leg. A long, thick scar ran across my knee, the deepest and ugliest purple I’d ever seen. It looked like it would erupt at the slightest touch, and throbbed with the slightest movement. I looked away before I threw up again.

“You’re extremely lucky, Bridget. It looks like most of the venom was trapped under your skin when the Kobrek bit. If it had gotten a proper chomp out of you, well…” he said, leaving the thought unfinished.

“Doc Boothby said the same thing, Doc.” Colm informed him. “She’s our family doctor, there arne any human doctors back home. She only looked at it though, she said she dinna have the expertise tuh treat’er wound.”

“Humans aren’t much different from us. Kwellgor’s Cough is the only known disease they can’t contract. But all the same, it’s a good thing she didn’t try anything without the proper tools.”

“…Wait, when did Doctor Boothby see my leg?” I asked Colm as Higgins turned to retrieve his own set of “proper” tools.

“Just after ye passed out. Ye were pretty out uv’it fer the better part a’ the day, remember?”

“I’ll have to drain the build-up, but the scar won’t look much better afterwards.” Higgins stated. A massive empty jar sat beside the table with a series of tubes connected to an intimidating, complicated apparatus. For a moment I thought he was loading a gun, but he set up miniature needles instead of bullets into the front slots. After he lined it up with my knee, I felt a pinch on the gash. “We can finish the rest of the exam while this drains.”

The examination was less stressful after that. Then again, nothing else he had to offer seemed as terrifying as the needle gun. Higgins had an array of tools modified for human use. His stethoscope had a vest I had to put on so he could hear my heart and lungs. The table I sat on was also a scale. A normal ruler, however, was used to get my exact height. The worst part of any doctor’s visit came soon enough though: the vaccinations. The needle-gun served for the injections too.

“A-are you sure this is medically sound, Doctor?” I asked. Higgins started mixing different liquids before loading them into the slots of the needle-gun. While Boothby had been quick in her measurements for Colm, Higgins took his time to be more precise. “W-we d-don’t usually have all our s-shots at once b-back home…”

“I doubt they’re as quick-acting as these will be.” Higgins stated, slipping the tip of the needle-gun around my upper arm. There was a strap to measure my blood pressure and to keep the tool in place as it did its work. It took ahile before the shots were done, the doctor waiting a moment between each one before starting on the next. He made sure to wrap the injection site with a bandage that matched the new one around my knee. “Try not to use your leg too much, and get plenty of rest. Otherwise, you’re all set.”

We were back in the main store before long, Colm retrieving his list from a pocket. Delilah returned the moment she was finished with another customer and offered to help.

“If I might make a suggestion, M’lord? You can leave your human at the clothing tables while we look for the rest of the items on your list.” she said, looking over the paper. “It’s common practice, unless you’d prefer-?”

“No, that’s fine. She doesne need me hangin’ o’er’er fer somethin’ like that.” Colm chuckled, setting me down gently on the table. “Easy does it, now. Doona wanna make that leg any worse.”

“I’ll be fine, Scruffy.” I told him, taking a few steps to be sure. The pain was minimal but the limp was gone for the most part. “So, uh, what’s the deal here? What’s my limit?”

“Limit?” Colm asked. He bent down so he was eye level with me. “Runt, ye doona have a limit. Just get whate’er ye need an’ whate’er ye want. I’ll take care a’ the rest.”

“Dude, don’t say that. I will do everything in my power to bankrupt you if you do.”

“Alright, ye wanna limit? I’ll give ye a limit.” Colm said, leaving to grab something from the front counter. When he got back, he had a pair of woven shopping baskets. He set one on its side on the table, so that the opening faced me. “Yer cut off when ye fill this up.”

“And just where do you plan to keep all of the things I may or may not get?”

“I’ll get ye extra dressers. Or make a’ closet out uv’a cardboard box. Gods ‘bove, I’ll buy ye a dresser me own size if I have tuh.”

“Scruffy, I am not about to go on a spree just because you say-OH MY GOD THERE’S A CLEARANCE SECTION.”

“Give a yell if ye need help, alright?” Colm chuckled as I got to work picking items out.

The clothing tables were set up along the store’s back wall, each table pressed against the other so no gap remained. I figured it was so any human “allowed” to walk around could get to different sections without fear of falling. Rows of dressed human-sized mannequins were lined up with a pile of dress boxes at the base of each one. Guessing by the three-piece suits the displays wore, I knew I had been dropped off at the Men’s section. The boxes had a plastic window to see inside, a “Little Treasures” logo and guarantee for the “Best Charmed Cloth” printed at the top. Each had their prices stamped on the bottom. I had no clue what the exchange rate was between the Giant’s currency and my own, but a lifetime of playing role-playing games told me this was going to be expensive.

“Screw it. He wants to foot the bill, I’ll make him regret it.” I said, tossing one of the three-piece suit boxes into the basket. A few ballroom gowns followed shortly after, mostly for the Hell of it.

Each table was visited in turn: toiletries and bathroom essentials, odds and ends to decorate one of those horrid cages, among others. The clearance section I spotted earlier was the very last one. Most of the items were like any normal clothing store: clothes that were out of fashion or currently out of season. A bin full of loose clothing sat in the middle of it all, and it was there I discovered the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Another human being.

Finally.

“Stupid…cheap…miser of a-! Oh, hey! What do you think? Do these go together?” the man asked when he saw I was staring at him. He held up a bright orange waistcoat and a striped bow tie. “It’s the only thing I can find in here and…kid, are you alright?”

“W-what? Oh, no, sorry…” I replied, wiping away tears I didn’t know I shed. “It’s j-just…you’re the first person I’ve seen in…in…”

“You haven’t been in Rosecrest long if I’m the first human you’ve seen. We’re all over the place here.” he said, his voice soft and understanding. The man was middle-aged, maybe in his forties if I had to guess. Wrinkles lined his face, soft green eyes contrasting against dark skin. Flecks of white streaked through his hair, lightly frosting his temples.Placing his items in one arm, he offered a hand. “Ignatius Thessaly. Nice to meet you.”  

“Bridget. Bridget Bradley, of New Jersey. The pleasure is all mine.”

“Holy Smokes, a Jersey Girl! Finally!” he said, a smile spread across his face. “I haven’t met anyone else from New Jersey in ages! What exit?”

“I always say 14B ‘cuz it’s the Jersey City exit but I live closer to 14A.” I replied, smirking at the question. It was a pleasant reminder home. You knew you were talking to a fellow Garden Stater when they asked that question. “You?”

“13A, Elizabeth. Your Giant find you in the forest, I take it?”

“The…forest?”

“Ha. Guess not. Most of the humans here found themselves in the forest on the edge of town when they were first stranded here.” Ignatius explained. He leaned in close, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “Listen, a bit of advice from an old ‘pro’ to a newcomer? It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar, understand? Don’t push your Giant’s buttons until you get a feel for them. Trust me.”

“W-what…what do you mean?” I asked, swallowing the bile that filled my mouth at the “advice”.

“You see that one over there, the skeleton in the gray suit?” Ignatius said, pointing out a dour looking Giant across the store. The man was tall, thin, and gangly, with a suit that seemed too short for him. “Forbes P. Thessaly, owner of the largest human shelter in Rosecrest. I’ve been with him long enough to see people drop off their humans for the worst reasons. It’s not a pretty sight and…oh, wow. I can’t believe he’s here!”

“W-what? Who’s here?” I asked, the question about human shelters leaving my mind when I saw the awed look on Ignatius’ face.

“Big blonde guy, near the registers? That’s High Lord Colm Arcadi, he pretty much runs the country.” Ignatius explained. “Guess he’s shopping for a human of his own, or something. And of course, there’s Thessaly, swooping in to make a deal.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” I replied, trying to keep a straight face. Technically, Colm “found” his own human, or something, already.

The man known as Thessaly began chatting with Colm, handing him a business card. Colm looked uncomfortable, but shook the man’s hand and listened to him nonetheless. We were too far away to hear what they were discussing, but Ignatius had an educated guess.

“Probably trying to convince him to come down to the shelter, give him the grand tour and all that. Poor bastard. I wouldn’t want to be him right now. Never heard a bad word against the guy mind you, but it’d be a shame if Lord Colm stopped by a place like…oh damn. I know that look.”

Ignatius turned and tossed his items back into the bargain bin. Thessaly and Colm were done talking, and Thessaly was approaching the tables with the most miserable expression on his face.

“It was nice meeting you, Bridget. Good luck with your Giant, whoever they are!” Ignatius said just before “his” Giant reached for him, lifting him off the table and sliding him into a suit pocket without a word.

The experience left me in such a daze that I barely noticed our time in Rosecrest was passing. Lunch was one of Colm’s fries, but my stomach wasn’t up to the challenge of more than a mouthful or two. I knew other humans were here, ever since Colm explained about “Crossing Over” but it was a different matter to see one in person. As much of a relief it was to know I wasn’t alone, the encounter was bittersweet. So many questions and scenarios ran through my mind. At the forefront was probably the most terrifying: was Colm genuinely pleased every time I spoke against him…or was he just being patient with his new “pet”?

“Ye okay up there, Bridget?” Colm asked, interrupting my thoughts. Since my leg was much better than before, I took my spot on his shoulder. It was easier to lay my bum leg along the length of his shoulder for the ride back to Arcadia. “Ye’ve been pretty quiet…”

“Just resting, Scruffy.” I said, gazing out the window. The twins were already knocked out, leaning against each other as they slept. Elias was fighting a losing battle of his own. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

“Aye, just makin’ sure…”

Colm flinched when I dug my fingers into his neck, the cobblestone streets as tremor-inducing as they were before. He offered a hand, making sure I had something to hold on to that wasn’t his neck or face. All seemed fine until we reached the gates of the mansion, when the carriage came to a stop.

“What’s the hold up, Doogan?” Colm asked, rolling down the window to see for himself. He groaned at what he saw. “What in Caduceus’ Name is he doin’ here?”

Liam made to stop Colm from leaving the cab, but Colm gestured he’d be fine. He set me down on the seat next to Liam, making sure not to disturb my leg.

“What’s the trouble here, fellas?” Colm asked as he shut the door.

The moment he was out of sight, Liam scooped me up and took Colm’s seat. I flinched at the sudden movement, but we were both too curious about the situation to care. We leaned out the window to watch what happened next. It was Platonio the Marvelous in front of the gates, talking to the guards. Arguing, rather, from the way they were shouting at each other.

“M’lord, forgive my disruption. I was only trying to make an appointment.” Platonio stated with a bow. “I have urgent business to discuss.”

“An’ just what would that be, I wonder?”

“…It’s about my father, I need-!”

“Yer father attacked me on the street an’ tried tuh run off with someone dear tuh me, so ye’ll understand if I’m slightly less than interested in whate’er ye may damn well need. Now get outta here befer-!”

“The City of Bromwell versus Tom McNally, 1858!” Platonio interrupted with force. “Despite the protests of Mr. McNally, the city of Bromwell forced him to seek medical attention and take medication before taking the stand in his defense. McNally would have been executed for a crime he didn’t commit if they hadn’t intervened.”

“Are ye tryin’ tuh say yer father’s crazy an’ just off his meds?”

“I’m trying to say my father has the right to receive a full medical examination including a psychiatric evaluation before he’s deemed competent to stand trial and held responsible for his crimes. This is the last chance my father has, M’lord…all I’m asking is that you take that into consideration.”

There was a tense moment as Colm and Platonio stared each other down. The guards were ready to intervene if necessary, hands resting on the pommel of their swords. Liam’s fingers brushed the door’s handle, waiting to see if he’d be needed as well. Colm took a deep breath before he spoke again.

“…Do ye have a birth certificate? A bill with yer address on it? Anythin’ tuh use as proof uv’identity?” he asked.

“I was born in Bromwell, M’lord. I’m a full Fathish citizen.” Platonio stated through clenched teeth. “I can provide whatever papers you may require.”

“Ye’ll need’em. I canna do anythin’ officially ‘til Grievance Day, but here’s what I’m gonna do fer ye…” Colm said, pulling a book from his back pocket. I recognized it as his day planner. He tore a piece of paper from the back of the book and started scribbling on it. “This’ll ensure ye get an appointment with me an’ only me on Monday. Doesne matter what time a’ day ye get there or if we close befer ye do. Yer guaranteed tuh see me, no matter what. Got it?”

“Y-yes…yes, M’lord. Thank you.” Platonio said, taking the note. “I don’t…I don’t know how I can ever-!”

“Doona ye dare waste me time. Make yer case airtight. Not one single damn argument that I can counter ‘cuz I will throw ye out on yer arse if ye doona, understand?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you again, M’lord.”

Platonio offered him a bow before he left. Liam quickly shuffled over to his original seat before Colm turned around, holding on to me the whole time.

“What was that ‘bout?” Liam asked once Colm once the carriage started moving again.

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain later.” he said, scribbling a note in his planner before returning it to a pocket.

The next hour was spent unpacking all of the shopping. Colm “helped” open packages of clothes while I put them away in my bathroom. I took it easy on my knee, sitting beside the open curtain to retrieve clothes and items from Colm’s palm. The bureau in my bathroom didn’t take long to fill, and I needed Colm’s help to set up the extra one he bought. I stared at the messenger bag I got, wondering if I would ever have a chance to use it, let alone fill it with anything. It found a place at the bottom of the bureau nonetheless.

“…Ye bought a suit tuh?” he asked when he got to the final box.

“Yeah, why the Hell not?”

“No reason, I guess. Just a lil’ odd. But then ‘gain, guess that…suits ye, doona it?!”

“That pun was a horrible. I love it.”

Colm was stuffing the discarded boxes into one of the shopping bags when I exited my bathroom. Cushions that were my size lined the catbed, a new quilted comforter folded in the middle by my pillow. A wooden tower of steps pressed against the window seat so I no longer needed to climb to get a good view, with a squishy armchair and ottoman at the top.

“Thanks for all of this, Scruffy, but I’m telling you. You really didn’t have to splurge. I would have been fine with just…” I began, only to notice the look on his face. He seemed disgruntled when he looked at me. “…What?”

“Doona ye wanna change intuh somethin’ different now that ye have alla this stuff?” Colm asked as he changed positions so he knelt down in front of me. “Ye must be tired a’ wearin’ what ye got on by now!”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“‘But’ what?”

I didn’t want to tell him the truth: I was afraid of changing out of my clothes. There were few things that were really mine in this world. My name was already altered without my knowledge or consent. “Bridget Arcadi”, my fat, white ASS. I wasn’t about to force myself into new clothes just because my so-called “owner” said I should. There was no denying, however, that it…it felt like I was betraying a part of myself if I changed.

But hadn’t I already betrayed myself by becoming comfortable with and, maybe, even liking my enormous captor?

Betrayed all those I knew and loved by not fighting to my last breath resisting all of this?

“…I don’t feel like getting changed right now, that’s all. Be right back.” I deflected, closing the curtains so he’d think I was using the bathroom. Tears were building up again and I couldn’t bear to let Colm see them. I had betrayed them, hadn’t I? It didn’t matter I was deluding myself, I pretty much figured that part out days ago. I was weak. Weaker than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t thinking about me.

I just want everyone to know I’m okay. Tell them I’m not lost or dead or…or… I thought as I walked to the sink. The mirror showed the stray tears already making their way down my cheeks. Cold water didn’t help the woman in the mirror: she looked as worn and pathetic as ever she had been.

“I’m surviving. That’s all I’m doing: surviving.” I told my reflection.

Neither of us was convinced.

Flushing the toilet was a reflex, but it helped to hear something, anything, normal just then. I had to laugh at the thought of the toilet being a relaxing sound, and it helped. A little bit. When I left, I found Colm turning one of the wooden stair blocks in his hand.

“That one for the basket, Scruffy?” I asked, surprised to see him jump when I spoke.

“Aye, it is…” Colm said, exchanging the book underneath the basket for the block. He gazed at the book for a moment, a somber look on his face. He kept his concentration on it while he spoke. “There’s some near me bed, in case ye need tuh wake me up in the middle a’ the night or somethin’. I’ve got more uv’em in the bag. They’re s’posed tuh be fer the stairs, so ye can move ‘round the house without havin’ tuh climb the steps or anythin’. I’ve got ‘nuff so ye can head down tuh the first floor an’ up tuh the third floor. If I have any left o’er ye can probably walk intuh the backyard from the veranda tuh.”

“O…kay. Cool. That’s-!”

“But…there’s somethin’ I need tuh know first.” Colm interrupted, still staring at the book. “If…if I set these up fer ye…are ye gonna make me regret it?”

I know what you’re thinking: the first thing out of my mouth should have been a hearty “Of course not!”, right? A trip down the stairway would be significantly faster and safer if I had steps my own size to run down. Escape would be easy-fucking-peezy that way. But something as simple as a “No” caught in my throat. A question escaped my lips instead.

“If…if you’re worried about something happening…why even bother to ask, Scruffy? Why get them in the first place?” I asked with trepidation, unsure if it was the wisest thing to say.

“I…I wanna know I can trust ye. I’d rather hear ye say I can ‘steada think I canna, Bridget.” Colm said, his tone soft but serious.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re the one who kidnaps me and brings me to the middle of West Bubblefuck, Narnia…and you’re the one having trust issues?”

The expression on Colm’s face was hard to decipher. I couldn’t tell if he was…disappointed? Was that the right word? Reluctant, maybe. Hopeful wasn’t the right one. Longing didn’t seem quite right either. No…it was need. This wasn’t something that was going to be deflected with a joke or change of topic. He needed to know, and he needed to know now.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I told him. Perhaps I had been too vague because the look on his face didn’t change. A moment passed before I took a deep breath and continued. “…I promise, Colm. I won’t try to escape.”

I promise to succeed.

Colm managed a brief smile before we left the room, setting up the blocks along the stairs and heading for the garden afterwards. We made our way through the flowers and plant-life just like we the day before. Well, almost like the day before. Colm kept me in the palm of his hand the entire time instead of letting me stroll among the flora. He knelt down whenever I wanted to look at something I hadn’t seen yet. A patch that grew the flower that saved my life, the Rodelia, was almost bare. The remaining few resembled the odd combination of a rose and a daffodil. Eventually he stopped to rest under the same tree and patch of sunflowers. The appeal of my favorite flower was lost for a moment, images of the snake flashing through my mind at the sight of them. My stomach churned and my knee throbbed at the memory.

“…I met a man at the store today. Said he was from New Jersey, just like me. He lived in a town nearby, about a 20 minute drive from Jersey City. I was so happy to see another human that…that I actually started crying right then and there.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

“We didn’t get to talk for long. I got his name and some advice. Ignatius, that’s him, said I shouldn’t try to piss off ‘my’ Giant too much.” I explained with a small laugh, expecting to see Colm asleep or gone when I turned to face him.If those were the reasons for Colm’s silence, I would have been devastated.

Turned out Colm was paying the utmost attention to my words, still as the grave while I continued.

“That guy who gave you his business card at the store? The one who runs the human shelter or whatever it’s called? He’s Ignatius’…his…you know what he is. People…people drop off human beings there for…for stupid reasons. Ignatius didn’t say specifically what for but it’s not hard to imagine what they were. Probably the same reasons people drop off normal pets.”

Tears were building up at the thought. I held them back as best as I could.

“There’s just…so much wrong here. And so much danger too. The things that happened? Or almost happened over the last few days? They’d never happen back home. I was safer there than I am here.”

There was a temptation to veer away from the real questions on my mind. Maybe broach the topic from another angle. But I couldn’t stop. Not now.

“You said…said I can tell you anything, right? No matter what? Then you can do the same for me. I need to know. Just tell me why.”

I let the tears fall when I made eye contact with Colm.

“Colm, please…why’d you have to bring me here?”

It felt like an eternity passed while we stared at each other. I could see his eyes slowly change to red, even from a distance. My fists were clenched, my whole body shaking in anticipation of his answer. For better or for worse, I had to hear what he had to say.

“It’s…it’s complicated…” he finally whispered, his voice cracking on the words.

“Stop! Stop it! Stop fucking saying that!” I yelled, not able to control myself any longer. If screaming like a lunatic was the only way to get through his thick skull, then so be it. “It’s not complicated! You’re just too damn chickenshit to admit the real reason!”

“I am NOT-!”

Yes you fucking are! If you just wanted a damn pet, than fucking say it! Don’t pretend it’s-!”

“I WANTED A FRIEND, ALRIGHT?!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. He turned away, his face a blistering red from anger -or maybe embarrassment- when he saw the look on my face. “I just…I just wanted a friend…”
EDIT: Chapter illustration featuring our favorite Jersey Boy!

Wow, I forgot how quickly the "reason" chapter appears in this version. Hopefully you guys will like it when you read it next week.

It also occurred to me, while rewriting this story, that maybe there's more focus on details and "mundane" events than say, action, in FFH. And while I'm sure publishers would urge me to cut even more crap out should I ever attempt to make this a real book (that is to say NEVER), I feel that's kind of the whole point of FFH. To me, anyway. To see how similar yet different this world is to ours and all that shit. At least the plot shows up earlier than fucking Twilight and I'll be forever grateful for that at least.

All characters (c) Me!

Chapter 8: fav.me/d6m2mxe

Chapter 10: fav.me/d6nus4u
© 2013 - 2024 TheBrigeeda
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reedoodles's avatar
Laughing at the "what exit?" question exchanged forever by New Jerseyians.

ALSO THIS IS A SAD TURN :,,,cccc POOR BRIDGET POOR COLM POOR EVERYONE